


Sorry Tyler.

by Captin_ryden



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Mild Gore, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captin_ryden/pseuds/Captin_ryden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler is a master mind murderer. Josh is his hitman and assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. shots fired.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So i saw this vine and i was like "imma write a fic for this" and it happened. this is the first part, there's probably going to be a least two more parts.

The only thing I can hear is the beating of my own heart. Its pounding in my ears like somebody banging on a door. Its like this every time, before every job. I get nervous and agitated, I start sweating like a sinner on a Sunday, my fingers shake so its almost impossible to pull the trigger. But every time I somehow follow through.  
Everythings a blur as I pop open the window on the second story. My feet find their way into the room. Its walls are painted pink with posters of soccer teams and horses. There's a small body in the small bed.  
She doesn't deserve this. None of them ever do. But I have to do this or else Ill end up like them. And sometimes I want to just drop the gun and pick up the nearest phone and call the police and say “Im here please come get me. Save me and everyone else.” and have Tyler find out and then he would kill me before the police get here. He’s smart. He probably has a tracking device on me or something the traces everytime I pick up a phone. Something crazy and weird. Just like him.  
I feel my stomach drop through the floor as I pull the trigger.  
I feel my hands shake as I put her small body in a bag and drag it to my car.  
I feel myself vomit in the grass by the side of the road.  
I feel myself almost drive my car into the ocean but I stop myself.  
And I cry the whole way home.  
Every single fucking time.

*

“Hey Josh did everything go alright?” Tyler asks when I walk into the apartment. I apply my fake smile and nod.  
“Oh yeah everything was fine. She was home alone so it was pretty simple.” I lied. I almost shot myself instead. Not so simple. I shook it off though. Tyler smiled up at me from his place on the couch. “So what exactly did she do? Is she linked to someone or something?” I asked changing the subject. I hate talking about victims like their just pieces of meat.  
His smile fell.  
“I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about it babe.” he said shortly and without emotion.  
“Tyler she was only thirteen. What the do you have against a thirteen year old?” Images of a bloodsplattered pink wall and a carpet that would never be the same again danced through my head. Eyes that were lifeless. Skin that was milk white because all her blood was on the carpet. “Please tell me.”  
“Her father is a bad man.” Tyler said simply. “Tomorrow you're going to go to his law firm and take care of him too.” I'm a bad man too. Someone should kill me too.  
I deserve nothing less.  
Tyler smiled again, acting like I hadn't said anything, and sat up on his knees and kissed me on the cheek.  
“Thank you. Youre so good at your job.” He wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me on the lips. He was persistent and trying to get me to open my mouth, biting and licking. I pushed him back gently and shook my head.  
“I need to take a bath.” I said and turned to walk up stairs.  
“I love you…” his voice called after me.  
I kept walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its so short


	2. Eat a bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh is beginning to crumble and wear down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg im so sorry i haven't updated in a week. This chapters a little longer so yay!!

“Good luck. Make me proud sweetheart.” Tyler leaned over to kiss me on the cheek. He smiled the smile that got me to fall in love with him. I’m falling out of love just as fast though these days.

  
I pulled myself out of the car, slung my backpack over my shoulder and looked down at him. “Ill be home for breakfast.” I said through a fake smile. I slammed the door shut and turned on my heel and walked toward the brick building.

  
My hands shook and my feat tried to turn me around and march me to the nearest police station, and to be honest I should have let them take me there. I need to be punished for what I've done, I need to suffer like all these poor people have, I need to be put into an electric chair and fry for what I have done. But I know that Tyler would never let that happen.

  
Every time someone has been suspicious of us we move away and change names. I think I've been someone named Timothy for the past six months. I think the paperwork says I have two kids and that I’m a vet tech? Not only am I a murderer but I’m an identity thief as well. What else could I do wrong?

  
I walk to the front desk and look at the small lady behind it, her hair is graying and she has a picture of her daughter on her desk. She smiled at me and I did my best to smile back.

  
“What can I do for you kiddo?” She asked sweetly. I could feel the sweat beginning to bead on my neck and forehead.

  
“I h-have an appointment to see Mr. Nighly at n-nine.” I stuttered out and mentally kicked myself. She smiled wider and readjusted her glasses.

  
“Sure thing. Can I get a name and case number please?”

  
“Timothy Hibits. Four twenty three.” I hope Tyler hacked the computer and put in a fake file like he was supposed to. If he didn't I'm in for a load of shit. I stopped breathing. The lady tapped at her keyboard and clicked at the mouse.

  
“Ahh yes. His office is down the hall and on the right. Be kind to him though, he shouldn't even be here today, his daughter just passed.” She said with a hint of sorrow to her voice. I let my breath out and my heart speed up.

  
“How terrible.” I said in the most monotone voice. I practically ran down the hallway.

*

I inhaled through my nose and pushed open the door and was greeted by a man holding a picture frame that probably held a picture of a small, blond, thirteen year old girl who didn't deserve to die.

  
He looked up at me and I tried with all my might and soul not to scream out ‘I'm sorry that I'm a monster! My boyfriend is psychotic! I'm basically being held captive!’

  
Mr. Nighly’s eyes were the saddest I’ve ever seen. He set down the frame.

  
“Hello, you must be Mr. Hibits. How are you?” He said with a weak voice. I nodded and sat down in the chair in front of his desk.

  
“I’ve been better. How are you?” A question I already knew the answer too. He shook his head and smiled weakly.

  
“Not so great i'm afraid. My daughter was just…” He trailed off. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the gut, ripped me open, poured lemon juice and salt inside me and stapled me shut again.

  
“You dont have to talk about it,” I said quietly, preparing myself for what was to come. “You can take a minute to yourself if you want.”

  
Mr. Nighly set his head down on his desk and sighed heavily.

  
Is it bad that I wished he would kill himself so I didn't have too?

  
I reached for my backpack and opened the biggest compartment and slid out the gun. My hands shook and my eyes burned with tears. Images of blood splattered carpets and walls from other missions flashed in my mind like some sick twisted movie. I stopped myself from screaming by biting my tongue so hard it bled.

  
“Im sorry.” I whispered as I pulled the trigger.

  
Blood began to pool on the wooden desk top.

*

I some how managed to clean and sterilize everything, get the body out the window and into the waiting car and make sure no one noticed.

  
I climbed back inside and walked back into the front office. I stopped in front of the receptionist.

  
“Mr. Nighly just wanted me to tell you that he left to go home, he said he didn't feel well.” I said to her. She looked sympathetic.

  
“Oh bless his heart, I would go home early too. I feel so bad for him and his poor wife. Such a tragedy. Good luck with your case!”

The woman called after me but I was already out in the parking lot trying not to have a meltdown.


End file.
